Crime and Coming Out
by malaga
Summary: House and Horatio meet in Miami. Unfortunately, House's usual luck comes along, and Horatio has to make a choice between his privacy and House. Crossover between House and CSI: Miami, Slash and Murder though not explicit murder
1. Idiot Doctors and Stupid Lieutenants

**Disclaimer: I don't own House or CSI. This is slash. Naughty stuff happens. Don't like, don't read.**

House sipped his scotch casually as he leaned against the bar.

After his attempt to see what lay beyond this life (for the curious, nothing, so don't bother), Cuddy had put him in a ketamine coma again.

This time though, it worked. House thought he almost wished it hadn't, because now he had no excuse for the snarkiness, and meant Cuddy thought he owed her.

Apparently ketamine was expensive. Who would have thought?

The fact that he owed her meant lots of extra clinic duties, which he never did anyway, and conferences.

House hated conferences with a vengeance. Smug doctors attempting to prove how much better than their peers they were while still acting humble was _not_ his idea of ideal company.

"Well, after I saved the woman's life single-handedly in a hurricane, her daughter looked up at me and thanked me, and I almost cried. That is why I'm in the business really."

That was a lie. Most were in the business for money, (like Foreman) some were in it for the great pick up lines, (like Chase) and some were in it so they could feel better about themselves, (like Cameron). House was in it for the challenge, but at least he was honest about it.

Unfortunately, he still routinely had to go and tell idiots how not to kill a patient when you had no idea what was wrong with them, which was why he was in Miami right now.

The reason he was in a gay bar in Miami was a little more complicated.

This was the first time he had been let out without a babysitter. Okay, Wilson coming to one that had a famous oncologist lecturing had been believable, as had Foreman's presence at the Cranial Conference (yes, the alliteration was meant to make it more appealing). It was when Cameron tagged along to the Vegas one on kidneys that he got a little suspicious, and what Chase knew about the lungs could be written on a single cell.

So, now he was free, he had been planning on enjoying himself. He'd taken two weeks holiday for once the week long torture was finished, and planned on finding himself three weeks full of young, attractive, one night stands, male and female.

Then, after a couple of nights of fun in various clubs, he met Horatio in Club Specios. He had been getting bored with the plastic kids, and the man was definitely more than that.

Of course, they didn't make plans to meet again after that night, and surely it was just coincidence that House came back at the same time, when Horatio happened to be there.

And it must be coincidence that they'd been coming there nightly for the past five days too.

"Greg!" The familiar shock of red hair weaved its way in and out of the throng, finally emerging attached to a short man in black. "Sorry I'm late."

House frowned. He wasn't late, because House wasn't here to meet him… Who was he kidding? He sighed.

"It's okay. Tough day at work?"

"Yeah." As he ordered a drink, he elaborated. "Idiotic lieutenant working with me, thick as clotted cream. Young girl left to die in a park after being beaten up. You?"

"You know," House pouted, "It takes away all the sympathy points for me having to deal with morons all day when we talk about dead people. It isn't fair, they're automatically the most pity worthy thing."

Horatio laughed, "Well, I have the day off tomorrow, so probably no dead people. I could show you around Miami, if you wanted?" His voice betrayed a slight uncertainty as he asked.

House considered it.

"Sure. Meet at my hotel, at eleven? I have a lecture in the morning, but I'm free after that."

Horatio nodded, and finished his drink.

"Dance with me, Greg."

House loved dancing. Most people would have thought that after the infarction the activity he would most miss would be lacrosse, or running.

No, House revelled in the sweat and the sheer primal energy only found on the dance floor. The multi coloured lights, which spun wildly of slick bodies and the smell of sex in the air. Dancing was the closest thing to being on drugs that was legal.

And as he ground against the stocky man before him he could feel the beat pounding through his feet and he laughed with the joy that only comes from being able to do something you thought you never would again.

Horatio smiled at the sight, and kissed the man before him. While usually their kisses were slow and exploratory, each using their many years experience to make it perfect, this fit the music. It was wet and wild, and all teeth and tongues, and when House flicked his tongue gently against the roof of Horatio's mouth, he couldn't take it anymore and broke away.

"My house," Horatio gasped, "Now."

House didn't reply, just dragged the smaller man out to the car park, shouting for the barman to call a cab on the way.

Luckily, it arrived quickly, because both men were at that stage of drunk where they were left with no inhibitions, but still had full motor skills, and probably would have been arrested for public nudity if it hadn't arrived in ten or so minutes.

They groped each other shamelessly in the taxi, and the driver got to Horatio's house in record time, probably trying to get rid of the gay men in the back as soon as possible.

House paid for once, chucking in far more than necessary before chasing the red head out of the car. Horatio seemed to take forever to find his house key, not helped by the fact that House was grinding shamelessly against him.

"So sexy…" he whispered, nibbling on the back of Horatio's neck. Horatio whimpered quietly, finally opening the door, and slamming it quickly behind them. House had already made a start with opening his buttoned up shirt, and it flapped wildly as they raced up the stairs.

House took a moment to revel in the ability to do this. He'd heard of people who were allowed to walk after being in a wheelchair, and after a while it became commonplace. He knew that would never happen to him.

He grinned down at Horatio, tackling him onto the bed.

"What shall I do with you?" He asked rhetorically, kissing and licking along Horatio's collarbone. He made a long thin trail down the man's chest and stomach, vaguely aware that his clothes were being removed.

He tried to pull off Horatio's pants, finding it difficult. The button was sliding through his fingers, and he glared at it as Horatio laughed, reached down, and undid it himself. Now the pants came off easily, and House raised an eyebrow archly.

"Commando, Lieutenant?"

Horatio blushed, the colour almost matching his hair, and busied himself by finding the lube and a condom. House looked at the man's naked behind wriggling as Horatio tried to find the stuff, and his erection grew almost painful.

He pulled off his jeans, and reached around the other man, palming him with the ease of practice. Horatio gasped at the unexpected feelings, and his back arched with pleasure. He found the items, chucking them at House.

"Greg…" He begged, and House was quick to oblige, preparing him slowly, ignoring his pleas to go faster.

He slid in, and Horatio moaned, shaking with lust. A couple of thrusts, and House was finished, the tight warmth feeling so good. He flipped Horatio over, and kissed the top of his cock delicately. The urethra, his medical mind provided. He told his medical mind to shut up and took the man in his mouth. All those years of popping pills had done wonders for his gag reflex, and he massaged Horatio's balls gently, enjoying Horatio's keen as he came, deep in House's mouth.

"God, Greg." He said happily, snuggling up to the man. He felt House's chest vibrate as House chuckled.

"You only need to use one of my names…"

Horatio slapped him playfully, before yawning widely. It was already about one o'clock, which was far later than he should be awake. He drifted off slowly, still cuddled up to the other man.


	2. Early Birds Get The Arrest Record

Surprisingly, I still own nothing. Also, there is mild slash in this chapter, but if you didn't care about the last one, this is nothing.

House woke up early the next morning. Well, early for him.

If he'd had his way, all lectures would be after midday, but this one was at ten, meaning House had to wake up at eight thirty to get back to his hotel and changed before nine forty-five.

All his lectures were a lot fuller than anyone else's, which House felt was unfair, as he did his best to drive them away.

He caught a cab back to the hotel, entering to a scene of chaos.

Uniformed men swarmed around, testing everything, and House blinked, checking that this was real.

"Mr. House, we must request you join us at the station."

House turned to the man who had spoken. He was wearing a suit that would have worked better on someone who was a foot taller and twenty pounds lighter, and had an officious look on his face. House instantly disliked him.

"Dr. House actually. May I ask why? Since I orchestrated World War Two and killed the Queen of England I've been a relatively good boy."

The man attempted a shark like grin, but instead looked as though he had indigestion. "You are a suspect in the murder of Tim Bryanson."

"Who?" House snickered internally, as the man looked frustrated. Obviously he had expected House to burst into tears and cry out that he'd done it. In this case though, House was serious. The name wasn't ringing any bells.

"Tim Bryanson. You're coming downtown."

This time House couldn't restrain his bark of laughter. "Did you see that on a cop show? Seriously, that phrase wasn't even cool in the eighties."

The Twit, as House had affectionately named him, started to turn red around the ears.

"Take him aw… in, boys."

House knew he'd been about to say 'Take him away, boys", but refrained from commenting.

As he was 'helped' into the police car, his mind turned to more important matters, like what to have for lunch and who to use his phone call on.

Wilson's reaction would be funny, but not helpful. Horatio might help, but might believe he'd done it, which would both suck and effectively end any relationship that was there.

House mentally shrugged. He'd work it out later. In the meantime, he should do what Wilson always told him to, and look on the bright side of things. At least he didn't have to talk to idiots.

On the minus side, he was still dressed in his clubbing clothes, and hadn't showered today. Probably not the best impression he could cause on any cops or lawyers.

Horatio woke up late that morning. Well, late for him.

Generally, he got up at six or so, and even on his days off he got up early out of habit. This morning, as he woke up at half past six, he was still clinging tightly to House and as embarrassing as that might be, it felt nice.

He managed to get back to sleep, not waking again for another three hours. This time, his groggy wake up had him roll over and stretch out. The absence of House made him wake up, and open his bleary eyes in search of the man.

He spotted a note on his gun holster, House having obviously assumed that would be the first thing he'd pick up.

_Horatio,_

_Gone to talk to stupid doctors. Should be finished by eleven. You owe me a tour of Miami, so you better start planning on where you'll take me._

_I'm an expensive date, be prepared._

Greg 

Horatio grinned, and looked at his watch. He had maybe an hour to get dressed and showered, then half an hour to decide where to take Greg. It had to be somewhere special, that he couldn't find on his own.

He mused on it in the shower, thinking of various places, but all seemed wrong.

Too soppy, too touristy, too friend-like. Where was the place marked on the map, 'Gay Couple First Date Zone'?

He snickered to himself, realising that House had actually put out five times before the first date. An expensive date, but obviously easy too.

"Calleigh! Can you round up the rest of H's team and go to the interrogation room? You need to do some observations of proper interrogation techniques."

Calleigh was really starting to wish Horatio hadn't taken the day off. Technically Rogers was her superior, being a lieutenant like H, but he was a jerk anyway. Insinuating H wasn't as good at interrogation as he was, and in the same breath acting as though they were friends by using a private nickname.

Still, he was her superior, and Calleigh sighed, but went to find the others and take them to the interrogation room. Once they got there, a surprise awaited.

"Alexx? What are you doing here? Not to mention all the others." Delko waved his hand vaguely around, gesturing to the room full of lab workers and mortician people.

She shot a disbelieving look at him, "It's Dr. _House_."

Ryan understood immediately, joining the techies casting longing looks through the panes, but the other two were still mystified, and said as much.

"Dr. House is like the Sherlock Holmes of modern medicine, combined with Brad Pitt. He's in every teaching journal in the world, and he's in our building…"

She sighed, and Calleigh looked alarmed. This was serious hero worship, from Alexx, possibly the person who was most unimpressed by status. Well, after H of course.

The lab geeks seemed to agree, staring through the glass as though hoping the great man would look back. It was entirely possible that this one act of arresting their hero had caused more hatred toward Rogers than months of slights towards the technicians. Well, it couldn't happen to a better guy.

Ryan appeared puzzled, "But Rogers is a serious sycophant. He wouldn't arrest someone as famous as House."

"Well, there is the best part," A woman wearing a lab coat snickered, "He doesn't know Dr. House is _Dr. House_, he just thinks he has some random guy in there."

"Alright guys," Delko contributed wickedly, "He said to observe, so lets… observe."

"Mister House, you were seen having an argument with the victim the night he was killed."

House rolled his eyes. "Do you know how many people I argue with? If I were to kill them all, I think I'd have committed genocide by now."

"After you fought, you weren't seen again until this morning. You had changed your clothes, but hadn't showered or shaved."

"Actually," House felt duty bound to point out, "I got changed last night. Just because no one saw me in this outfit doesn't mean I wasn't wearing it."

Rogers sneered. "Why would you avoid people? In a hotel that size, some one should have seen you."

"Because I didn't want to be jumped by my freaky wannabe groupies who were lurking in the lobby," House replied flippantly.

"It seems I must be more specific. Where were you between eleven and one last night?"

"In bed." While House didn't actually say 'duh', his whole demeanour suggested it.

"Any witnesses."

"Honestly," House waved his hand flippantly, "What kind of a question is that to ask a lady?"

"Answer the question, Mr. House."

"Do I need to keep reminding you, _Lieutenant_? It's Doctor. Twice over, actually."

Rogers' jaw tensed. "Answer it, Dr. House."

"Don't I get a phone call or something? I'm fairly certain it's police protocol."

House could hear teeth grinding madly. He hadn't had this much fun winding someone up since he was first introduced to Cuddy.

"Fine," He chucked the officer a bone, "Yeah, I was with someone, for that whole time period."

Rogers sighed with relief. "Then let's call them in. If you are telling the truth, you can leave straight away. If not…"

"About that…" House trailed off, and Rogers groaned internally. An old doctor, this was meant to be an easy interrogation!


	3. House Compliments Someone's Intelligence

Disclaimer: Yes. I admit it. I own House, CSI; Miami, and the patent for blue-tac. Some slash. Only a little though.

"_About that…" House trailed off, and Rogers groaned internally. An old doctor, this was meant to be an easy interrogation!_

He resisted the urge to rub his temples in frustration. "About that… What?"

House grinned, far too happily for any man who was suspected of murder. "I can't tell you my alibi."

"Let me get this straight," Rogers growled menacingly, "You have an alibi for last night, but you can't tell me. Dr. House, you could be going to prison for _murder_ if you don't cooperate. Why the hell can't you tell me?"

House looked on with mild curiosity. "Getting that annoyed isn't good for your blood pressure."

"I. Don't. Care!" Rogers' fist thumped on the table menacingly.

"Well, the man I was with last night hasn't come out to his friends yet. So, I'd have to let him do that before it was put in the record. I can't do that by the way, until I talk to him."

With perfect timing, House's mobile rang at that moment. He held up a finger, imperiously shushing the detective as he answered.

"Hey there."

"Greg," Horatio's voice emerged, sounding slightly worried, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, and no. I'm alright, but I'm currently at Miami Dade. I need you to come tell the stupid little police man the full details of what happened last night."

There was an ominous silence, before Horatio spoke up. "I guess it had to happen eventually, huh?"

"Yeah. So, I'd get everyone you know and like together and tell 'em rather quick, then come down here and spring me loose. Though, I quite like the handcuffs they issued me with, so maybe we'll see if we can keep them…"

Horatio choked, "Greg! Alright, I'll see you soon."

House hung up, and looked at the iridescent policeman.

"What? Do you need specific details of what we did last night? I don't mind really, boasting about sex has always been a favoured pastime of mine."

"What? You're a fag?" Rogers asked, still shocked.

"Tuttut, Lieutenant, that isn't exactly a PC term. And no, I'm not."

Behind the glass, though House couldn't see them, the techies and police officers were rolling on the floor with laughter. Rogers wasn't exactly anyone's favourite person, and House was doing his best to pop the arrogant air the man carried around like a personal bubble.

"But you were with a _man_ last night."

"Bisexual actually. Also, homophobia isn't cool. Just so you know." House winked at Rogers, and he acted as though he had been violated.

"I'll be right back, Dr. House."

Rogers stormed out, heading to his office to call Horatio. It may be Horatio's day off, but maybe he could get through to the awful man.

Rogers was therefore somewhat surprised when he ran into his fellow lieutenant in a hallway. Not exactly wearing regulation clothes either, he noted, looking at the outfit of a loose blue shirt, and was that _leather_ his pants were made of?

"Ah, Rogers. I need to speak with my team. And Alexx."

Rogers waved his hand irritably. "You can speak to the Mortician, if you can find her, but your team is watching me perform an interrogation."

Horatio raised an eyebrow. "Is a confession coming soon?"

"Well, no." Rogers admitted reluctantly, "But we're waiting for the boyfriend," he sneered, "to check his alibi. Actually, I was wondering if you could have a go at breaking the man."

Horatio snickered internally, but nodded, trying to look as though it was an honour.

He stormed into the room, winking at Greg.

Inside the watcher's room, everyone gaped, and Alexx asked what was on all their minds.

"Is he wearing… leather?"

Horatio stood facing the mirror, and waved to the team he knew was in there.

"Delko, Calleigh, Ryan. I don't quite know how to tell you this, but…"

As he paused, trying to think of how to put it, things instantly clicked in the watchers' minds.

"Oh God…" Ryan whispered. Delko thought this was a reasonable reaction, until he heard the next part. "He's with Dr. House?"

Calleigh almost expected Ryan to faint with delight, as he stood staring between his boss and his hero.

"You have no problem with the fact that he's gay?" Delko asked, and Ryan looked at him scornfully.

"It's _Doctor House_…"

"What about you, Calleigh? Alexx?" The women both looked completely untroubled by the fact.

"Am I the only one that thinks it's… odd that H is gay?"

"Yes." Chorused the room.

House rolled his eyes. "Horatio, you've told me about your team. They aren't thick, I think they've worked it out by now."

Horatio nodded his agreement. "Where the hell is Rogers?"

"This is just a guess, mind." House smiled innocently, "But I'm thinking he's gone somewhere quiet, preferably with migraine pills."

"Greg…" Horatio said warningly, "What did you do?"

"Nothing, nothing. But he's rather homophobic. Probably wouldn't react well to his co-worker kissing someone anyway, when they're both men? He'll blow his stack." An evil grin spread over House's face.

Horatio was amused, but tried to hide it.

"That's unprofessional."

"But it would be fun anyway…"

"Look, if I do this, can I choose how to tell your colleagues when I meet them?"

House considered the deal. It wasn't like Horatio would be meeting them anytime soon, so it was a pretty harmless bargain. "Sure."

"Alright then. He's probably in his office, so let's try there first… Greg!"

"What?" House asked, trying to hide what he'd taken.

"I have a pair of handcuffs in my car, leave those ones here."

"But they have so much history!"

"If you agree to use my ones, I'll let you use them first…"

"Fine."


End file.
